He has been there 14 hours now.
I must admit. I have not really cried yet. My eyes have leaked off and on and my stomach stays in knots… But I have not openly cried like I thought I would.
I keep waiting to wake up from this nightmare. But I guess that means it’s real.
Its funny, the panic I felt at leaving him, is the same panic that has kept me waffling back and forth between the thoughts: “does he really need help? Or is it just the Autism”.
But after his confession of having been contemplating suicide… I realize I need to be able to leave him for 7+ days or he could leave me forever.
So, I sit. I read. I color and I star off into space. I don’t have the emotional or mental strength to “visit” or think about much else. So I am holed up in my comfy spot… My head, and waiting it out.